


ice ice baby

by anaer



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Bondage, Bottom Scott Summers, Cock Warming, Ice Play, Ice Powers, Improvised Sex Toys, M/M, Shameless Smut, Sounding, ice REALLY does not work this way, ice does not work this way, like made of ice, shameful smut actually
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-23 04:19:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23005636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anaer/pseuds/anaer
Summary: “Will I like this idea?” Scott asks dryly.“Probably not.”Scott's lips twist into a thin line, his unimpressed look. “Just don’t give me hypothermia.”Bobby waves his hand dismissively. “Don’t worry; I got this.”
Relationships: Bobby Drake/Scott Summers
Comments: 3
Kudos: 45





	ice ice baby

**Author's Note:**

> This title is honestly as shameful as I am. I can't believe I wrote this. All the quality, grade A smut I have sitting half-finished on my google drive arguably of Real Literary Merit, and this is what I manage to get done, hahaha. 
> 
> This is not at all how ice works.
> 
> Superpowers, y'all.

Ice hits the back of his throat, choking him, and for half a second Scott is tempted to throttle Bobby. It’s not the dick in his mouth but rather the commentary that is accompanying it – “What do you think, Scotty, if I turned to ice, would your tongue stick to my dick?” – that is making him regret his life choices. That, and probably the ice dildo shoved up his ass, not too large but still obtrusive and uncomfortable – _freezing_ and for some reason _not fucking melting_. 

This is his own fault. Scott should’ve expected something like this, really, but he miscalculated. It’s not…surprising, per se, that Bobby is this creative – creativity with his ice powers is, in fact, one of Iceman’s main strengths – it’s more surprising that Bobby is this creative in _bed_.

Honestly, up until now Scott’s always thought Bobby was a little boring about these things.

Funnily enough, Bobby would likely say the same thing about him.

(Though in Scott’s favor, his relationship with Emma wasn’t exactly a _secret_.)

What is surprising is that this is happening at all. There’d been one kiss between them, years yet months ago when they were sixteen and in the future (in the now), forgotten about in the end – sacrificed like a lot of things to preserve the timeline and take their rightful places back in their increasingly shitty lives. They remember now, though. 

It was Scott who confronted Bobby. Scott isn’t necessarily the best at interpersonal relationships – especially when telepathy isn’t involved – but he’s known Bobby for over twelve years. Bobby is somehow significantly worse at relationships than Scott is, and from the way he’d waffled when he’d seen Scott again, it was clearly going to be up to Scott to make sure they stayed on talking terms.

Not that he would call this, right now, “talking terms” exactly. 

Well, maybe on Bobby’s end. 

Bobby flicks the remote, and the sounds from the TV change with the channel. The hand on the back of Scott’s head tries to pull him down further, ram even more dick down his throat, but Scott has swallowed as much of Bobby as he is physically capable of taking. His throat is already going to hurt tomorrow. His throat is already starting to hurt _now_.

It’s been over an hour. His mouth has long since gone numb – Bobby may not be ice right now, but the Iceman still runs freakishly cold – and his thighs are starting to burn from holding the awkward position. It’d be easier with his hands to offset and help balance, but there’s no way Scott can free them from the rope fastening them behind his back. Even trying just tightens the noose around his neck, running the risk of choking him. It’s not the worst position to be in, honestly, but it is a challenge.

“So how about it: admit it; I’m better than Emma.” Bobby only dares say that because Scott’s mouth is full and he can’t reply because 1) no, he’s not and 2) even if he was, Scott would say no to that just on principle. He tries not to feed Bobby’s ego if he can help it. It’s already too fucking big, much like the veritable pillar of ice up his ass, freezing him from the inside out. His ass clenches around it, and he’d whimper if he could.

Scott shivers. His whole body is on edge from the cold. Ice touches his spine, and Scott jolts. The hand on his head keeps him from moving as he chokes. It’s just Bobby, he realises a second later, dancing fingers down Scott’s spine. He grunts disapprovingly and focuses on _not_ choking. Bobby acquiesces, lifting his hand away to flick the remote again.

The cold grows from inside of him, and Scott shifts, wishing the thing in his ass would actually fuck him. Instead it just sits there, driving him crazy, cold and uncomfortable. It’s so fucking huge, is what it feels like. It somehow feels bigger than before. It…shit. It _is_ growing. _Shit_. It’s slow – so slow at first that he didn’t realise what was happening – but the ice in his ass is too fucking huge to ignore now, stretching him to a point that’s blatantly uncomfortable as it stuffs his ass full. He shivers again, shifting, then whines around the cock in his mouth, begging Bobby’s attention.

Bobby puts the remote down and laughs. “So I’ve been practicing with my powers like you suggested,” he says lightly. It shifts abruptly inside of him, pushing against his prostate, and Scott yelps, hips thrusting into empty air beneath him. His arms jerk the noose around his neck, and suddenly this has gotten a whole lot harder to maintain. “Really, I should’ve done this ages ago.” Bobby pauses, breaks off, and when he continues there’s something wickedly gleeful in his voice. “Emma gave me some tips.”

Emma. Of fucking course. Scott doesn’t have time to think more than that, though, because the ice inside of him expands so suddenly he nearly collapses – does collapse down ever so slightly, forcing more of Bobby’s dick down his throat, and it’s a miracle he can breathe. He half cries out, the noise muffled by the dick gagging him. Bobby keeps him upright if not steady, one hand keeping Scott from pulling back at all, still trying to push his head down more, make him take it, make him swallow it _all_. Scott still squirms, shifting uncomfortably, but there’s nothing to press against – nothing even to rut against – and no way to relieve the pressure inside of him without Bobby, who’s too busy laughing at this to even consider easing up. 

Despite it all, Scott is still freakishly, freakishly hard.

“This is more fun than I thought it’d be, Scotty.” Bobby lazily pulls out, thrusts once back into Scott’s waiting throat, and then is gone. He shoves Scott backwards, and it feels like every part of his body is stuffed full of that still expanding ice as he goes down hard, landing on his back – or, rather, his hands twisted tight up behind his back. “But I have an idea to make it even more fun.” Bobby’s smile is worryingly wicked. 

“Will I—,”” Scott cuts himself off, coughs to clear his throat, but there’s no escaping the rasp. “Will I like this idea?” he asks dryly.

“Probably not.” 

Scott's lips twist into a thin line, his unimpressed look. “Just don’t give me hypothermia.”

Bobby waves his hand dismissively. “Don’t worry; I got this.” He drops the remote onto the couch and gets up, kneeling over Scott. One hand traces the tip of his cock, so fucking cold that Scott yelps and shifts away. Bobby shrugs and grabs him fully by the cock, stopping that movement before it can go anywhere else. Scott is officially not hard anymore. Bobby runs too cold for that – or, at least, he’s choosing to run this fucking cold to torment Scott. Emma has told him entirely too much.

At least the ice plug in his ass has stopped growing. For now. It’s uncomfortable and cold and just shy of painful, and Scott wants it gone as much as he’s into how full his ass feels. As much as he’s into how callously Bobby treats him. 

“Fuck,” Scott hisses. “Bobby!” Bobby tugs Scott’s cock, pulling it towards him, and Scott complies, shifting back closer. 

“See, I was gonna try something a little simpler, but I don’t appreciate you trying to ditch me like that, Scott. It’s not very… _cool_.” Goddammit, the pun is worse than anything else Bobby is doing to him. Scott’s not entirely sure what Bobby _is_ about to do to him. Bobby cradles Scott’s cock with one hand, and brings his index finger to the top with the other. “I don’t imagine this will be very comfortable for you _at all_.” He pauses, then adds, a bit gleefully, “I actually think you might hate this.” Emma, of course, knows all about how much Scott loves things he hates. 

Something thin pushes into his urethra, freezing cold and obtrusive – unnatural – and Scott freezes, face pale and eyes wide.

“Y-you’re not…” he cuts himself off, teeth grinding together as it grows inside of him, longer and thicker, and even thicker until Scott’s cock is plugged as completely as his ass. He groans, low and deep. “Fuck,” he says, curling up onto his side. “ _Fuck_.”

Bobby climbs off of him. “Back on your knees,” he says easily, but Scott doesn’t know if he can move. He doesn’t even try, still trying to adjust to the giant cold thing in his dick. Bobby sighs dramatically. “Scott,” he snaps, and Scott nods, but still doesn’t move – still doesn’t think he can. “I can make this worse.” Bobby doesn’t wait to play out his threat. He turns Scott over, pulling him up onto his knees, head on the ground, and god, that made everything feel that much worse. 

He’s not sure whether his ass or cock is bothering him more, at least until Bobby presses a finger to the end of the ice in his ass and it grows deeper inside of him, pulsing lightly. Scott squeaks. Ice grows out from it, thick and living as it shoves his ass cheeks apart and grows down past his perineum, a thin, living strand wrapping painfully tight around his balls, and then even tighter around his cock. It doesn’t make sense that he’s not all numb through everywhere, but then again, Bobby is much better with his powers than he used to be. 

“Is this what you want? A whole fucking chastity set made of ice?” Bobby asks snidely, and the tone and threat inherent would make Scott hard again if he were capable of it. “Now get over here and warm my dick.”

Bobby sits back on the couch, but on the far end rather than where he was before, remote in hand once more. If Scott thought moving was difficult before, moving now feels nigh on impossible. His hands jerk behind his back, choking him again, and he stills almost immediately. He shifts forward on one knee, then the other, creeping forward one inch at a time. “God, you’re taking too long,” Bobby declares. “Emma did say you like to be punished. The longer you take to get over here is the worse it’ll be for you.” 

The ice inside him starts growing again – cock and ass both. He shudders, gets out half a, “Bobby—,” before it all jolts suddenly, a message that Bobby doesn’t want him to beg right now. The ice outside his hole is growing, too, spreading his ass cheeks further apart with each passing moment. Scott is red at the thought of what that must look like. He speeds up incrementally. 

Bobby is self-satisfied and smug by the time Scott makes it those few extra feet. Scott is shivering, and not just from the ice. 

“Don’t worry, Scott,” he says. “I won’t make you do anything as hard as crawling across the room again tonight.” Maybe Bobby has been spending too much time with Emma after all. He threads his fingers through Scott’s hair again, and then Scott is back to where he was before, choking on Bobby’s dick and balanced precariously on his knees. Back to where he was, except somehow even worse off. Bobby clicks the remote, and Scott can hear a movie begin playing in the background. “We can do more when this is done.”

Fuck.


End file.
